


Leave Me To Dream

by Texeoghea



Category: The Dreaming (Comics), The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Asexual Character, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Im too tired for tags, M/M, Smut, theyre soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 07:59:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19663132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Texeoghea/pseuds/Texeoghea
Summary: Dream thought himself incapable of being loved, and Lucien was determined to prove him wrong.





	Leave Me To Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [koalaboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaboy/gifts).



> thats right im back at it again making a fic for ANOTHER empty ship tag

Lucien was very, very old. He had spent the majority of his life in a place where oddities were normal and normalties were odd. It was hard to surprise any resident of the Dreaming, but Lucien was the least likely to be shaken. However, his heart always fluttered and thrilled within his chest like an uncaged bird when his Lord deemed it necessary to bestow affection.

Morpheus was not an affectionate being. He remained distant at best with those he liked, fearing the consequences of getting too attached. This had grown after Nada, but moreso after his imprisonment. Before, when Lucien had first become his Lord's raven, he struggled to understand his motives. But as he grew beyond the rank of servant to gain the title of "friend", he began to notice things. Dream had different silences that would follow him. A content silence, a bored silence, an infuriated silence, a heartbroken silence. He was the perfect antithesis to the chaos of his realm, a dollop of calm black against the caterwauling cacophany of discordious color that was the Dreaming. His voice was deep, smooth, and quiet, and he did not use it often. As Lucien got to know his king better, he grew more skilled at recognizing his moods just from the way he carried himself, the different tones of his sighs, even the way the castle's rooms and decor shifted were hints to how Morpheus felt. When Dream almost drowned his subjects in Despair, the realm  had drained of color. Words had melted right off the pages of Lucien's books. Dream refused anyone entrance to his chambers, and ignored his Gatekeepers. He wished the world to go away. Lucien did not. He would rather be disobedient and punished, but have helped his Lord- and friend- than stand by and watch everything crumble. (He would have to do such a thing twice in his life anyways, though he didn't know it then.) The doors to the throne room had not been locked when Lucien entered, because Dream couldn't fathom anyone ignoring his commands. Surprised black eyes had turned to look at him from the balcony, where rainwater ran in freely to pool on the tiled floor. "Lucien?" Dream said softly. "I said I wished to be alone."

"I thought you might be lonely," was all Lucien could think to say as he closed the door behind him. Morpheus turned back to the sky, staring at the rain pouring down. "I am always lonely, Lucien," he responded, voice barely a whisper. The walls groaned with heartache as the sky cried for its king. Lucien's own heart was in agony for his friend, echoing the pain that plagued Dream. "My lord," Lucien breathed, fearing that speaking too loud would shatter the very world beneath his feet. "You're not alone. I'm here." For a moment, Morpheus might have smiled. His head was lowered, staring at the ocean of rainwater that had gathered itself around the castle, and not a soul would ever be able to tell. "I fear I am incapable of being loved." His voice fractured slightly as he spoke. "That Desire is simply using me as a toy for its whims. I... I'm scared that I'll never..." he stopped. His grip on the railing of the balcony tightened by an infinitessimal amount, but Lucien saw. He thought about the things Dream would whisper to him while he stroked his feathers, the messages he dutifully carried as his raven. He remembered the sly smile that would momentarily grace his lord's face at Lucien's wisecracks, and the goldren, rare jokes in return. He thought of the stars burning deep within the eyes of his king, twinkling when he was excited, trembling, burning with emotions he refused to express. Lucien stared at his master for a long while. Finally, he spoke.

"Desire has no claim over me," he declared, "you are my creator, the only person I've ever listened to in my life. You gave me a second life, and taught me so much, and when I asked to stay, you gave me a duty to perform, which I've done to my very best ability." Dream was looking at him, now, warily. "I am yours," Lucien said, stepping closer. "I'm your friend. I'd like to think I'm your most loyal staff member, too. You are literally the reason I'm alive right now, and I..." the words caught in his throat, so he went the bold route. He cupped Dream's face in his hands, bent down, and kissed him, hoping it would express what he couldn't say. When he pulled away, Dream's eyes were wide. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained grey. Lucien's stomach twisted nervously. Morpheus blinked once. Twice.

And he began to laugh. First soft, then a full, deep, hearty laugh, that both thrilled and terrified Lucien right to his core. The clouds, slowly, began to clear, and the stars in Dream's eyes sparkled as he said, "I don't think that was proper behavior for a servant to display for his master." Then he gripped the lapels of Lucien's coat and kissed him again.

So it went. Dream treasured Lucien's love like it was the most precious thing in the universe to him- and it was. Dream could love no mortal, was not made to love at all, and yet he loved Lucien with his entire Being. He kept the love secret, restricted it to kisses in empty corridors and embraces in his throne room (which now locked.) Lucien understood why. It could be dangerous, if anyone found out, for both of them. But still, he longed for Dream's fingers to entwine with his, for his sparkling eyes to glance up at him with amusement at something Lucien said, for their lips to touch, soft as feathers. He longed for the touch of his lord. Sometimes he even daydreamed about it, which led to an incredibly awkward conversation later in which Dream mentioned he was the king of  _daydreams_ as well as normal, nighttime dreams, and Lucien had tried very hard not to drop dead of embarrassment.

But all this meant that when Dream reached for him, he was all the more eager.

Lately, his king had taken to looping two fingers through the belt loops of Lucien's pants, dragging him gently along as he went by. The corridors they paced to the throne room always seemed conveniently empty, which Lucien knew was hardly a coincidence. Something most people didn't know about Morpheus- his hands were very cold, but the rest of him was very warm. As he pulled Lucien into an embrace, pulling his cloak tight around them both, Lucien leaned into his warmth like a snake to a heat lamp, almost purring as he was kissed. His heart was swelling and full to nearly bursting with happiness and satisfaction. His lord had been lonely for so long, it had seeped into his subjects as well, and now that he was happy, the opposite was happening. The staff within the castle were gossipping relentlessly, wondering what maiden their lord had seduced most recently, and how he was managing to keep it a much better secret this time. Lucien always nodded, and smiled, with a "Perhaps he's grown tired of our bets and teasing", and other such things. But alone in the throne room with Morpheus, Lucien wanted more.

It had been so long since someone had touched him. You could hardly blame the poor man, really. It had been centuries. When Dream accidentally pulled him a little too close, and their bodies had pressed flush together, Lucien's groin brushed against his lord's hips, every moment of solitary arousal burst back into his mind at once. He barely had the time to think  oh, dear,  before he was embarassingly hard and pressing against his pants, against Dream. His face flared in a firey blush. They hadn't even discussed this yet, but Lucien knew his lord was never very interested in the vices of the flesh, only indulging when his partner asked. Lucien supposed he was asking now. "Ah," Morpheus said, as flustered as Lucien felt. "Uh. I see." His blush showed worse on his pale face, and it made Lucien a tiny bit satisfied to know it. "I'm ever so sorry," he said, moving to step away, but Dream held him firm. His head tilted as he thought, then his eyes flicked up. "Would you like me to touch you, Lucien?"

"Yeah," Lucien said, his voice high and whiny. Damn Morpheus for being unintentionally hot. Morpheus smiled gently at him and pressed his palm firmly into Lucien's cock, and a squeaky whimper tore out of his throat before he could stop it. Lucien reached to reciprocate, but Dream caught his hand and gently moved it away. "Watching you is pleasure enough," he smiled. Lucien's heart thrilled within his chest. He pressed his face into Dream's neck and gave shuddering, sighing moans as his lord took care of him, recieving kisses, soft praise, and a small satisfied purr as he bit his lip and came into his hand. "Thank you," he whimpered quietly. Morpheus shushed him and cleaned him up with a thought. "Come here," he smiled, a smile very few beings got to see, and walked backwards, pulling Lucien with him until they arrived at his throne. Dream sat and pulled Lucien down onto his lap, once again pulling the soft velvety black fabric of his cloak around them both. Lucien leaned into him happily, eyes slowly shutting as he basked in the peace of the moment and the contented silence of the room.


End file.
